Disclaimers: Transformers © Hasbro
Warnings: AU and I'm playing with my 'crack' pairing again. WTFrag?
Notes: Bwah? The hell is this? I should be writing so many other fics, and what comes to me? A fraggin' prequel story to "Freedom Ain't Free." Like the world needs more Rumble/femme!Starscream or something. Oy. What the hell is wrong with me?!

Oh, and as an added note (and a sort of reply to a comment on that particular fic), I'm basically using the 'scale what scale' thing that comes with G1. In other words, the non-animalistic Cassetticons (and Cassettebots, for that matter) are about the same height as the other minibots (Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, and so on) and come to about waist-height on the average Cybertronian. And Starscream is an average Cybertronian. Ah, G1 scale-issues, you are much crack. Because a semi is soooo equal in scale to an F-15 Eagle and a fragging handgun.

Starscream was having the worse cycle ever.

No, scratch that. She'd lost her best friend and research partner while on a scouting excursion for the Science Council, had been accused of murdering him upon returning without him, had her titles and achievements summarily stripped from her, and been deleted from the Council's databases entirely. 'Worst cycle' didn't even begin to describe it.

Worst fragging vorn, however, sounded just about right.

With that cheerful thought in her processor, the seeker femme snarled out a curse and knocked back another cube of high-grade. This was either her six or her sixteenth; she had lost count ages ago. All she knew was that she could still see the triumphant expressions on the Council leaders' faceplates as they'd stripped her of every achievement she had ever made while working under them, and she didn't plan to stop drinking until either the image was a fuzzy memory or she passed out.

Win/win.

Fully intending to get another cube, the white and red femme started to stand up, only to lose her balance and trip. Starscream honestly expected to hit the floor, and when instead she found herself being supported by a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and her optics locked on a pair of blue-violet pedes she lifted her helm in confusion.

"Steady there, sweetspark," the mech – apparently one of those from the minibot frameset, unless Starscream had halfway-succeeded in her quest to drink herself stupid – said, a thread of curiosity and mild amusement in his tone. "It's usually easier to walk if you watch where you're placing your pedes."

"Frag off," Starscream retorted, managing to get her legs back under her and shoving at the mini's arms. He loosened his grip but didn't back away until the seeker was standing upright once again. "No one asked you for help," she added in a low grumble after a second.

The mini grinned at the words, optic visor glinting in amusement. "Maybe not, but my creators would offline me if I didn't aid a lady in distress whether she realizes she needs an assist or not," he retorted.

The femme snorted and turned to resume her trip to the bar. She managed to get a whole five steps before her legs decided to take a break once more and Starscream found herself flat on her back staring up at the ceiling. She had just long enough to cycle her optics and wonder what in the pit she'd done to make Primus hate her so badly when the mini leaned into view.

"That doesn't look comfortable," the mech said, and this time the concern in his voice was a bit less hidden. "How much have you had?"

"Well, I'm still online," Starscream replied, absently wondering why she was replying and chalking it up to the fact that he had actually asked, "and my vorn isn't getting any better, so not nearly enough."

"And on that happy note, I declare that you are a melancholy drunk and that it's time you were cut off." The mini shifted out of her frame of view only to move to her side and begin to pull her into a seated position. The seeker protested the motion – the floor was comfy, slaggit! – but attempted to climb back to her feet once the room stopped spinning.

A small part of the femme wanted to shove this pushy little groundpounder away from her again, but another slightly louder part just wanted someone to care, even if they were pretending, for a little while. Her brothers were still in Vos and hadn't been able to come into Iacon upon her return, and Starscream had only taken a micron to send word that she had been kicked out of the Science Council before finding the nearest bar. She hadn't even told them where to find her because she had nowhere to go; she'd been staying with Skyfire whenever they were planet-side, and if she went near his apartments now chances were good that she would be arrested for trespassing.

"Thanks," Starscream muttered to the mini as he steadied her, hands at her waist and respectfully not dropping to hips or aft like most mechs would have attempted in this situation.

"No problem," he replied, shifting only to wrap one arm around her waist and coaxing her to drop one hand on his shoulder. "You must've had a rough one to be like this so early in the evening cycle. I'll help you get to wherever you're staying."

"Good luck with that," the seeker snorted, a self-defacing giggle slipping past her dermaplates. "Just drop me in the nearest alley, I'll find somewhere to recharge from there."

The minibot turned to face her, his expression hard. "Sorry, no can do, dollface. If you got nowhere else to stay, I got a guestroom you can crash in until morning. Ah ah, no arguing!" he added when she scrunched up her face in protest. "Like I said before, my creators wouldn't be happy with me at all if they ever found out I left a lady in distress. And trust me, they would find out."

Starscream bit back a retort of her own and just gave in. She was too exhausted and too slagging drunk to deal with an argument right now anyway. "Fine," she acquiesced, letting the mech guide her towards the door. She waited a moment before adding a much quieter, "Thanks."

"Told you it's not a problem," he said. "I guess I should ask what your name is, if you're gonna be crashing at my place."

Logic dictated that she should request – or even demand – that he tell her who he was first. But, once again, she was beyond giving half a frag about anything at the moment, and so responded without any hesitation: "Starscream."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Rumble. Now let's get you out of the streets and into a berth so you can sleep this off."

to be continued